Purple and grey

Emperor: The Field of Swords by Conn Iggulden (6hrs, abridged, HarperCollins, £13.99)

This should have been the last of his best-selling Emperor trilogy but Iggulden clearly feels he's on to a good thing, so why stop at three? Julius Caesar is now at the height of his military and political career as undefeated general of the Tenth Legion and Consul of Rome. If you missed the first two books covering his childhood and early career as a junior legionary in North Africa, don't worry. Each one stands alone but there is a strong chance that once you've heard this blood-and-thunder episode you'll want to catch up with the earlier stories.

Iggulden paints with a broad brush. Was Brutus's beautiful if errant mother really JC's lover as well as madame of a high-class whorehouse, and did Brutus really have an affair with Caesar's daughter Julia before she married Pompey?

The legion's super-human military manoeuvres in Gaul ring distant A-level bells, though mercifully without the obligatory ablative absolutes. Iggulden's background is neither Latin nor history; he was an English teacher at a London comprehensive. His style is simple, direct and vivid; you can imagine a class full of kids hanging on every word, especially the descriptions of epic battles against the savage tribes of Gaul and Britain. Not for the squeamish - reader Alex Jennings makes gladiator Russell Crowe sound like a wimp.

William Pitt, by William Hague, (6hrs 35mins, abridged, HarperCollins, £13.99)

The problem with every biography about Britain's youngest and arguably most brilliant prime minister is that the historical events taking place outside Westminster in the 25 years that he dominated Parliament were so much more interesting than anything going on inside. Pitt's pivotal role in drawing up new legislation to deal with parliamentary reform, Catholic emancipation, the Regency, stamp duty and income tax is interesting enough, but personally, I'd far rather hear about imperial India, the Irish rebels, America's war of independence, the French revolution, the battle of Trafalgar and, of course, the madness of King George. All these are touched on but from a dry and distant parliamentary viewpoint. While I admire Hague's "If you can't join 'em, write about 'em" attitude, frankly, without his enthusiastic reading I doubt I'd have made it to the end.